How the Movie Came About
by StrawberryChick
Summary: The story of how the movie REALLY came about ... and why Glorfindel never showed up in there. Slightly AU
1. Sounds Outlandish

Alas, here it is! The story on where the movie REALLY came from! I hope you like!! =)  
  
Disclaimer: This is fanFICTION. I'm not saying that this REALLY HAPPENED. Cuz it didn't. And LotR is Tolkien's. And Peter Jackson is cool, and I'm not dissing him, so . go away if you think I am. ;P  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
Glorfindel looked around the Prancing Pony. It wasn't often his business brought him all the way to Bree-in fact, he hadn't been in this part of the country for several lives of Men. It was odd, now that he found himself among the ruddy, smiling faces of the Breelanders-those of both Halflings and Men were indistinguishable but for their sizes. But Elrond had told him to go to the Prancing Pony, so it was in the Prancing Pony that the elf- lord found himself.  
  
What he did for that Elrond. It wasn't for many that Glorfindel would go into these parts, being an elf and all-and in disguise, no less-during such times. No, Elrond was really someone special, wasn't he? Him and his little ring ... the elven-lord didn't even have any idea what he was here for. All his Lord had said was 'you will be found'. Found by who? When?  
  
He didn't have long to wait. A few minutes after he sat down at the table, the doors of the inn swung open, yet again. A Man-almost hobbit-sized, but definitely a Man-with a round belly, a relatively close-clipped beard, and somewhat unruly hair stepped through. Glorfindel didn't take much notice; it was an inn, after all, and people were always coming into inns. But this particular Man steered himself straight towards the table the elf-lord was sitting at, not even stopping to talk to Butterbur.  
  
"Hello! Who might you be?" He asked, sitting down without even asking.  
  
"That all depends." Glorfindel said quietly, trying not to sound too horribly elf-like.  
  
"Ah," the Man said, looking him thoughtfully up and down. After a few scrutinizing looks, Glorfindel raised his hooded head and lifted an eyebrow.  
  
"You're here from Rivendell, aren't you?" The elf-lord, realizing he was being 'found', nodded once. The Man continued. "I'm afraid we can't discuss these matters here in the open. I'll rent a room for awhile if we can be private."  
  
Glorfindel, not seeing much choice in the matter, rose to follow him after the Man had talked to Butterbur. On their way down the straight, somewhat narrow hallway, Glorfindel asked, "and what might I be calling you?"  
  
The Man stopped. "Don't you even know what you're here for?"  
  
"No." The only obvious answer seemed to be the truth. The Man opened his mouth for a moment, then shut it. After an uncomfortable pause, he continued down the hall.  
  
"Peter," he said "you can call me Peter." Peter? Glorfindel thought to himself. Sounded outlandish.  
  
After passing a few more doors, 'Peter' stepped into one of the rooms. The tall elf-lord followed, feeling very elf-like in comparison to Peter's short frame and heavy steps.  
  
"I'm not from around here." The Man began, as soon as the door was shut. "You can probably tell by my name. You, being an elf, know very well that Middle-Earth is not the only continent in the world."  
  
"Yes." The two sat down in the armchairs placed near the unlit fireplace. Glorfindel, wondering at what this Man was leading to, kept his answers short.  
  
"Aside from Valinor, there's a land called Earth." He left off the 'Middle', so Glorfindel assumed that the 'Earth' Peter spoke of was different from theirs. "I'm from there. It's very different from here-"  
  
"Different? How so?" Glorfindel interrupted.  
  
"No magic. more industry, just very ... different." Peter, failing to find a better word, fell silent for a moment.  
  
"All right. Go on." The prompt brought a smile, and Peter continued.  
  
"A ship was blown off-course, coming from this land and bound for Valinor, and landed in this Earth. A man there demanded they tell him who they were, and where they were from, and was given a copy of a "Red Book". He rewrote this book, and published it in the form of a novel-The Lord of the Rings." A shiver ran down the elf's spine.  
  
"Lord of the Rings? We do not usually speak of him-" Glorfindel began, but Peter cut him off.  
  
"I know. If you'll believe it possible, it doesn't happen here for a few years yet. Time seems to distort on the journey between Earth and Middle- Earth-just as we'd anticipated. You see, this novel's popularity was so great I have decided to make a motion picture of it. Unfortunately, we haven't got quite the ability to bring your world to life as does it justice." He looked pointedly at the elf.  
  
"So what do you want me to do? I can't just drag our world into yours-" Once again, Glorfindel found himself interrupted.  
  
"Of course you can't. But, then again, you don't know what a motion picture is, do you?" Glorfindel took this into account, and shook his head.  
  
"Not really, no." He answered. Peter nodded, as if he had been anticipating this answer.  
  
"I figured as much."  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
So? Did you like? Did you not? REVIEW AND TELL ME!!! 


	2. It's Going To Be Awhile

YAY! Welcome to Chapter Two! I FEEL SO LOVED! You're reviewing!!! YAY! Now, read and enjoy, O readers of Chapter Two!!! =D ((sorry, a bit hyper today…))   
  
*~*~*~*~*   
  
All right. Glorfindel squinted up into the early sunlight and wondered how he was ever going to figure out how to work this … camera, Peter had called it. He still had a week before he needed to be in Hobbiton … and elves were known to learn fast, were they not? Sighing, he looked down and studied the camera once more. The red button was to record. He shrugged, and put the eyepiece to his eye. Why couldn't he see anything?   
  
A chuckle came from behind him. He turned, and saw the short figure of Peter behind him. "You have to turn it on, first." He pressed the large gray button and looked reprovingly up at the elf-lord. "Do you remember anything I taught you?"   
  
Glorfindel racked his brain and tried to remember all the purposes of the buttons. The squared, strange markings labeling them didn't help, either—Peter had said they were letters, but he had never seen anything of the sort before. "This one's to record." He said, indicating the red button.   
  
"Yes …" Peter nodded and raised an eyebrow. "… and?"   
  
"To …" The elf trailed off and tried hard to remember. "Stop recording?"   
  
"Good!" Peter clapped his hands excitedly and grinned. "And these?" He pointed to a button with two sides—one sporting a cross, and the other a straight line.   
  
Glorfindel stared at them for a moment, then began, hesitatingly. "To … zoom?" Peter nodded and lowered his finger to another button.   
  
And so it continued. As it was all quite boring, and involved a lot of good-spirited imitation of buzzers, I'll not give you the details. It is only for entertainment's sake that this even exists after all, and to bore you with the details would be far from entertainment.   
  
After several involved minutes, Glorfindel found himself, camera in hand, standing next to a cluster of little yellow flowers. Peter had decided to skip a few lessons and give our precious Glorfindel some hands-on experience. He had been instructed to "shoot" the flowers from several different angles. He truly had no idea why, but Peter had said to do so, and Elrond had said to do what Peter said, and so the elf-lord felt obliged.   
  
*~*~ONE WEEK LATER~*~*   
  
And here it was at last. The moment of truth. The day he had been preparing for since he had met Peter a week before.   
  
He was ready—Glorfindel knew perfectly well that he was ready. Or, at least, more ready than he had been … which was good, right?   
  
Ah, well. Whatever happened, Peter ought to be able to use what he got. With help from Gwaihir¹—who had been incorperated on account of excellent persuasion tactics by a certain Grey Pilgrim and a pair of fuzzy dice—he ought to be able to get some nice shots from the air. Of course, he wouldn't have access to any of those until the day after tomorrow. Gwaihir had insisted that he be able to spend quality time with his new fuzzy dice before the work began.   
  
Sighing, Glorfindel leapt lightly onto the back of his beloved Asfaloth. Sending a cheery wave over his shoulder to Peter, he spoke gently to his horse and they both set off on the road. As he and Asfaloth settled into a gentle trot, he looked at the camera, attached to his shoulder courtesy of a strap, and sighed again. It really was going to be awhile before he could go home and live in peace again …   
  
*~*~*~*~*   
  
So … What about this one? Like it? Not? Hmm … you must say! Stay tuned to Chapter Three!!!   
  
¹ Gwaihir would be Windlord, of the Misty Mountain-eagles that flew around with Gandalf on his back several times … the one that rescued Gandalf from Orthanc, remember? … =) I knew you would!   
  
TO MY BELOVED REVIEWERS:   
  
Elven Frog: Heehee! Yeah, Peter the director … =D Thank you! I'll try …   
  
Ithiliel: lol! I wondered what had happened to Glorfindel, too … my friend and I were under the influence of sugar when this idea popped into our heads … it fill all the blanks, don't you think? Except about Tom Bombadil … I'm not sure what happened to him … I'll figure it out, I guess! =)   
  
Halavana: ^_^ Nope! I'm not through with you yet! *evil laugh* I'm glad you like! =)   
  
Aimie Hopeful Writer: Yay! I like your story—it's quite funny! =) Thanks!   
  
AND TO THE REST OF YOU:   
  
Review! REVIEW NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *evil laugh* 


	3. If It Isn't Too Much Trouble

And here it is at last! The long-anticipated Chapter Three! *cough* Yes, well . I do hope you'll like it!  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Um." Glorfindel looked down at the short, nearly-but-not-quite round figure before him. Now this, he thought, this was a hobbit. And a young one, at that. Well, maybe not young, but younger. The poor, confused thing was staring up at him and gaping - no doubt, this was the creature's first look at an elf. Said elf, feeling rather self-conscious with the thing's eyes glued to him and jaw dropped, shifted his weight from one foot to the other and didn't say anything, for fear of frightening the shorter being off.  
  
"Um." The hobbit repeated it's noise, both wide blue eyes still plastered to Glorfindel's face.  
  
"Um," Glorfindel prompted, deciding to speak instead of waiting for the hobbit to find his sense. "Is Bilbo at home?" At the question, the gaping and staring stopped and the hobbit stepped back and held open the door for the elf-lord to step inside.  
  
"Yes, sir, he is." The tone of his voice told Glorfindel that his hobbit-friend was furious at himself for forgetting his manners. "I'm Frodo Baggins, sir, and at your service!"  
  
"Er," Glorfindel wasn't sure if Bilbo knew him - of course, he had been to Rivendell before, but Glorfindel didn't recall being introduced to the fellow. He was also a bit unfamiliar with hobbit manners and how to answer Frodo's 'at your service!' "Glorfindel, at yours." He was pretty sure that was it. It was too bad he didn't have much of a surname - he didn't want to say 'Lord Glorfindel' for fear of young Frodo going wide- eyed and gaping again, and just 'Glorfindel' sounded so plain. Ah, well. Nothing to fret over, he thought to himself.  
  
"Shall I go and get Bilbo?" Frodo asked, as plain 'Glorfindel' stepped inside and had to bend down a bit to do so.  
  
"If it isn't too much trouble." Unsure of why he said it, the elf straightened as best he could and looked around. He didn't care how much trouble it was for Bilbo to see him - it was quite necessary for the whole thing to go smoothly, and he'd rather not wait. But, from the way Frodo scurried off, it wasn't too much trouble, and he didn't have to worry about what he'd said, after all.  
  
While Frodo was retrieving Bilbo from the depths of the house Peter had referred to as 'Bag End', Glorfindel got a good look around. The whole thing was very hobbit-y, something to be expected from a hobbit hole, and quite the new experience for an elf-lord like himself. Despite all his travel and scouting and all other forms of service for Elrond, and others, a hobbit hole was something he'd never had the privilege of encountering before.  
  
After a few seconds of imitating Frodo and staring around, Glorfindel heard the light-but-not-elven footfalls of the hobbits coming down the long hallway that stretched out before the front door. He turned and saw Frodo, accompanied by Bilbo, approaching.  
  
"So you're Glorfindel, are you?" Bilbo asked, when the two hobbits stopped before the elf.  
  
"I am," Glorfindel responded, smiling at the old fellow.  
  
"Well, seeing as it must be something of great importance that brings you all the way to Bag End, I'll have to ask you to sit down and take tea with us." Bilbo smiled, as well. Glorfindel, wondering whether his business could be considered to be 'of great importance', followed him into the small, not-quite-cluttered room and sat down. Frodo ran off to make tea, and Bilbo settled down to what he anticipated to be a good, long conversation.  
  
"Ah," Glorfindel began, trying to think where to start. Outside the sun still sat high above the treetops - there was no need to rush. To start from the beginning should be best.  
  
"Well, you see, perhaps a week or so ago, my Lord Elrond sent me to Bree, for reasons he refused to divulge ."  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
And there you have it! Chapter Three has been completed . =) I find it kinda short . sorry 'bout that! Since I know my kind, understanding readers can find in their hearts to forgive me, I'll try not to let that bother me and concentrate on getting my other stories updated and Chapter Four up! . I'm starting to think this thing is gonna be quite long . but I do promise our precious Glorfindel shall begin filming by next chapter! ;P  
  
And to all my lovely reviewers .  
  
Queen-of-Sporks: Hmm . that might be one of the reasons! ;P There must be JUSTFICATION for a crime so hideous as leaving out Glorfindel, right? =)  
  
Erestor & Nurnoleiel - Elvish Advisors: Heehee! Yeah, well ... sugar can do that to you ... ;P I shall try to take your advice!  
  
Sami: Maybe he was ... somebody had to be on those scenes happening at the same time ... would Tom go to Isengard, though? I wonder ... =)  
  
Halavana: Oooh ... I have an English teacher reviewing my stories! ;P LoL! I won't panic! I need all the the help I can get ... =)  
  
And to the rest of you.  
  
REVIEW! REVIEW NOW! *evil laugh once more* . =) I am trying, here. *sigh* 


	4. The Old Walking Song

"You want me to _what_?" The old man looked appalled. Glorfindel did not consider himself weak, but he shrank back a bit at the glare he was receiving from beneath the blue hat. "Absolutely not! I refuse. I am a wizard, not a canary! Wizards, my dear Glorfindel, do not _sing_." Gandalf struck the ground with his staff imperiously and turned to walk away.

"Certainly you could make an exception," Glorfindel began, trying to keep the note of pleading out of his voice. Peter had been very clear about this part -- Gandalf was to sing one of Bilbo's songs. 'It makes him seem more grandfatherly,' he had said. This Gandalf didn't seem grandfatherly at all, Glorfindel thought with a gulp. "Just a measure or two …"

"No, no, _no_!"

The Elf sighed. He didn't know what the _Istar_'s aversion to singing was, but he was going to have to find some way of persuading him. "I'm sure we could arrange something, Mithrandir. A payment, perhaps?"

Gandalf turned, and his blue eyes focused icily on Glorfindel's face. "Wizards can_not_ be bought." He said sternly, and resumed his dignified stomping away.

"There must be something! I have gold." Gandalf did not acknowledge him. "Jewels?" Still nothing. "Pipeweed?" The wizard stopped abruptly.

Slowly revolving until he faced Glorfindel again, Gandalf gave him a hard look. "How much pipeweed?" The golden-haired Elf smiled.

"As much as you could ever want." Gandalf's eyebrows knitted, but Glorfindel could tell he had won. The wizard had all but agreed. Finally, after a few seconds of what the Elf could tell was a vicious internal battle, Gandalf nodded gruffly. Glorfindel's smile widened.

"Okay, so do you recall the Old Walking Song?"

A/N: I know it's been awhile. This was too great to just abandon! Please don't hate me ... I'll try to keep going. Best wishes!


End file.
